Hold That Tiger!
by SeenaC
Summary: First of a series of HH stories based on the episodes.  Please see A/N for full details. Will contain both het and slash  eventually .  Now complete!  Hogan's plan to get his hands on a German tank leads to unforseen consequences.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So this is my general idea for this series I am thinking of beginning - I want to go through the entire series of Hogan's Heroes episodes, but look at them from a slightly different angle from the originals. I want to reinterpret them as more serious, grittier, and with more emotional content. In my 'verse, Klink is a closeted homosexual, and there will be eventual slash between Klink and Hogan, so don't read if you don't like. But, it will be one-sided for Klink for quite a while so don't go looking for the slash soon. In fact, there will be a lot more het than slash here. There are some other twists and turns that I don't want to spoil for now, but I just want to say that I intend to be faithful to the cannon, just deepening it further.

If/when I get to the end of the series, I have a story about the end of the war I'd like to write to wrap up all the stories of the major characters.

I love feedback, so please, always comment! I will respond to all non-anonymous reviews. If you like what you read, please let me know. If you have suggestions for improvement, I'd love those as well. Silence, to me, indicates lack of interest, which would possibly cause me to quit.

I am beginning with "Hold That Tiger" because the Pilot/First episode is different from the rest of the series in some of its details.

**Disclaimer: ** I own nothing. I make no profits.

Hold That Tiger - 1

Colonel Robert Hogan was feeling pleased with himself that night at roll call. All the major pieces of his assignment were now in place, and there had been hardly a hitch. He had an excellent crew of men under his command, top specialists in all their fields, and each one could speak German like a native. The network of tunnels was almost complete, the radios were in place, and contacts with the German and French Undergrounds were secured. The German staff of Stalag 13 had also been carefully screened and discreetly modified where necessary. A few problems had been transferred and important relationships cultivated, particularly that with Schultz, the sergeant-of-the guard. The man was such an unwitting asset to them, Hogan suspected that Schultz might single-handedly win the war for the Allies.

Hogan's first few tasks had been easy, moving escaped prisoners from other camps along to the coast for rescue as well as some basic eavesdropping on the commandant of the camp. Hogan was eagerly awaiting an assignment that would really let them stretch their wings.

So, Hogan sauntered out with maybe just a bit more of his usual swagger for the nightly roll call and report on the prisoners. As he lined up with his men, he noticed Commandant Colonel Klink looking at him with a slight scowl of disapproval. He gave a smile and a friendly wave, he didn't want to antagonize the man, but didn't want Klink to think he could be intimidated, either. Klink grimaced and looked away.

As Schultz went through his counting routine Hogan pondered the enigma of Wilhelm Klink. Hogan knew the man on paper, but the living man was still a bit of a mystery. He was a decorated veteran of the Great War, he'd been a fighter pilot for the Luftwaffe! He came from an aristocratic Junker family, but strangely, after the war his life had stagnated. He had never married, and although he remained in the service, his post-war performance had been described by his superiors as " one degree above miserable." It was that dossier that won him the position of being "selected" by the Allies to be in charge of the POW camp where Hogan's operation would be run. In the few months of their acquaintance Hogan hadn't been able to get much of a feel for the man himself aside from his nervousness and a certain level of personal vanity. Klink was very proud of his escape-free record at Stalag 13. Hogan could almost imagine the look of affronted disappointment Klink would have if he ever found out it was due to Allied efforts, rather than his own. Klink also had musical aspirations, the tortured sounds of his violin often graced the camp in the evening hours.

Aside from these few things, the man was a mystery. He didn't date, and in fact almost never had personal visitors of any kind. His personal secretary, Helga, was quite the lovely young woman, but Klink never flirted with her, and in fact threatened the men under his command against attempting to win her favor. That had left her conveniently open for Hogan, and the two of them had a _very_ amicable, and mutually beneficial, relationship.

Hogan knew that he should count his blessings. He had a camp commandant who simply showed up for work, did his job, then retired to his quarters at night. His record made him confident and so he didn't bully the prisoners, inspections were laughable, and he didn't try to involve himself in the war effort beyond pushing paperwork across his desk. Still, Hogan wasn't satisfied. He felt as if he needed to know more about Klink's personal side in order to better ensure the overall success of his operation. Even small details such a fondness for a certain dish of food could be useful. Up until now, Hogan had been mostly focused on more practical details on getting things running. Now, he would have the time to remedy his lack of knowledge about his commandant.

After Schultz's customary report had been completed, Hogan was surprised to see Klink march briskly over to where the prisoners were lined up. Klink had them gather in an informal group around him. Hogan was intrigued, this was something new.

Klink began speaking, looking very self-important, "Prisoners! From time-to-time, out of my own free will, I bring you news of the war of which you are no longer a part."

What followed then was the usual propaganda spew about the glorious _Wehrmacht _which was greeted with hisses and catcalls from the prisoners. What followed, however, had Hogan pricking up his ears.

"I have just returned," Klink continued doggedly over the boos and insults, "from a nearby Panzer division which is completely equipped with the new and secret 'Tiger' tank which will crush all resistance like eggshells."

This was greeted with more vocal derision from the POWs. Hogan maintained a look of unconcern while his brain worked furiously. _A nearby secret tank? If we could obtain the blueprints for it..._

TBC?

A/N: So let me know what you think! If I do a second chapter, it will be from Klink's POV.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well, I see that there is some interest in this story! Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed and/or alerted! I will at least finish out the first episode and re-evaluate the interest at that point. As promised, this chapter will be from Klink's POV.

Again, reviews keep me alive and writing! :-)

Hold That Tiger! - 2

I'm not quite sure why I decided to talk about the new _Tiger_ tanks. I believe it must have been that wicked smile Hogan flashed at me at the beginning of roll call. Damn that man! I keep wondering which of my past sins was the cause of him being visited upon me here at Stalag 13.

I knew he was trouble from the first moment I saw his handsome, friendly smile. He greeted me like an old friend, rather than as his jailor. From that day I have hardly been able to resist his charm. Sometimes I even dare to think he is flirting with me, he is so forward, but then I see him with Helga and I realize that he is only using his personal charm to coax me to do his bidding.

I know he thinks I am a fool, and unfortunately when he is in my presence I become one. I cannot seem to be anything but a babbling idiot in the face of his winning smile and clever tongue. Every effort I make to distance myself is instantly undone the moment he walks into my office and leans across my desk and I catch a whiff of the cheap soap provided for the prisoners. And then, God help me, I find myself agreeing to another hour of electricity, another helping of potatoes, two showers a week, an extra blanket per prisoner...If I'm not careful the expenses are going to have to start coming out of my own money.

So tonight when he smiled at me, as if he knew he had my heart and will twisted around his little finger, I was determined to make him _stop smiling_.

It worked. I could see he was pretending indifference, but my words brought a tense line to his shoulders, and a small crease to his forehead. My heart clenched in angry triumph.

"Dismissed!" I announced, when I had said my piece, dismissing the prisoners with a dramatic flourish.

I had turned away and was headed back to my office when I heard his voice, "Colonel Klink!"

I turned back, "Yes, Colonel Hogan?"

"This Panzer division with the new _Tiger_ tanks, aren't they just west of here?"

"North," I blurted before thinking. "What's that to you?"

I felt cold, he had tricked me again, I could tell by the satisfied gleam in his eye.

"Just asking," he said with an air of innocence as he turned and went into his barracks.

I stared after him, wondering why he would ask, and why I was now filled with dread.

I spent a restless night thinking about Hogan and my increasing feelings toward him. The man was the enemy, and he was using me. Was he aware of my feelings? Was he exploiting my weakness? The idea was terrifying. I was aware of what happened, these days, to men like myself.

I reminisced about the period after the Great War, when there had been so much more freedom, particularly in Berlin. Women and men like myself had been living openly, particularly in the clubs and bars. Since I was in the military, I never participated in the scene, I didn't want to jeopardize my career, but it was comforting to know that society as a whole was becoming accepting of us as people, like anyone else.

But now, all was different. We were labeled degenerates, and even living in hiding was no protection if someone, anyone, knew something of your past. My military career and caution had saved me while others disappeared, never to be seen again.

I clutched my pillow to my aching heart. If only I could tell Hogan how much I really _hated_ what the Fatherland had become, but was completely powerless to do anything about it. I was in more danger from my own government than I was from his. But if Hogan were ever to find out my secret, I would be completely in his power. If he told anyone, it would be disgrace and imprisonment, or worse.

I simply had to find a way to repress these feelings for Hogan. I simply could not afford to let them show, or it could mean my life.

The next morning I decided that the best cure would be hard work. I went into my office and pulled out all of the documents and reports I had been avoiding. I was able to compile quite a stack of mindless drudgery, one that would keep me busy for days. I looked at it with bitter satisfaction.

A few hours passed, and my ploy was working. I was lost in filling out forms and tallying expenses, and I was _almost_ calm when I heard _his _voice outside my office.

I sank my head in my hands. It seemed I could never get away from him, even for just one day. He always had _some_ excuse to come see me. I cursed my heart for doing flip-flops of joy, in spite of my dismay.

My heart quickly sank, upon hearing Helga giggle and purr something in a low voice, something that had Hogan rumbling back seductively. _Oh you fool,_ I told myself, _why be jealous of something that can never be yours anyway?_

Helga announced Hogan with a broad smile, one that was matched by Hogan. He approached my desk with his customary mocking salute and as Helga retreated and he made a smirking comment about my taste in "furnishings." I swallowed bile and looked up briefly.

"Yes, yes, yes Hogan what is it? I'm very busy - paperwork from Berlin...No one has any idea!" I cried in frustration, maybe more frustration than was really called for, but it made for a good cover.

"Oh I sympathize," Hogan replied, "however, I must protest as against the Geneva convention, the private interrogation of my men by a Gestapo officer."

_Damn the man!_ Not content to stand and talk to me in front of my desk, as was proper, Hogan had walked over to the side of the desk, resting both of his hands near my left hand and leaning in alarmingly close.

"Nonsense!" I barked, "there is no Gestapo officer here, dismissed!" _Please, just go away!_

Hogan nodded knowingly and turned away saying, "Most likely an imposter."

I suddenly realized the possible ramifications of what Hogan was saying and I leapt out of my chair and came up behind him.

"A Gestapo officer? Here? What is he asking about?" I asked, trying, and failing, not to sound frightened.

Hogan turned back around to face me, I tried to push away the thought that we were standing almost flush against each other.

"Nothing important," Hogan was saying, "just wanted to know if we'd ever heard you say anything about..." he stopped and then said, "Oh, just the usual Gestapo stuff."

I broke out in a cold sweat. It seemed the Gestapo suspected me, it was just as I had feared.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Apologies for the long-delayed update. This chapter goes back to Hogan's POV. Also, I am indulging in the conceit that the Germans speak German to each other, although they did not do so in the actual series. For example, in this chapter, the exchange between Klink and Newkirk (in disguise) should be imagined as being in German, not English.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. I make no profit.

Hold That Tiger - 3

Klink was clearly frightened. He crowded close to Hogan, a look of desperation on his face.

"I am completely loyal," he cried, "they know that in Berlin!"

"Oh, but you know how they are," Hogan said, backing away a bit from the frightened commandant.

_I didn't think it would affect him __**this**__ much, _thought Hogan.

"What did your men tell him?" pressed Klink, "did they tell him the truth?"

Hogan was thinking quickly to formulate an answer to that, when there was a knock on Klink's office door.

"I cannot be disturbed!" barked Klink, immediately returning his attention to Hogan.

The knocking continued, insistent, so Klink gave up and said, "Come in!" with a mixture of annoyance and apprehension.

It was Corporal Langenscheidt, the timing working out perfectly. He had come to inform Klink that the "Gestapo Officer" was at the front gate, requesting to leave. Langenscheidt pointed out that they didn't have a record of him arriving.

Klink reacted just as Hogan had predicted, he brushed the inconsistency aside and ordered that the officer be allowed to leave.

"Right away Herr Kommandant!" Langenscheidt saluted and rushed from the office.

Hogan had to suppress a triumphant smile. This meant that RAF Corporal Peter Newkirk was on his way to the Panzer division, impeccably disguised as a Gestapo officer.

Hogan turned to Klink, who was still hovering anxiously over Hogan.

"Nasty lot, that Himmler crowd," Hogan smirked at him. He then quickly excused himself back to the barracks to finalize plans with his men.

The plan was a fairly simple one: Newkirk would drive one of the new tanks back to the camp, and while his arrival distracted the Germans, Corporal Louis LeBeau would sneak out to rendezvous with an agent from the underground. He would switch clothes with the agent, who would then pose as LeBeau and be "captured" and brought back to camp. For security reasons, the agent was only known to them by the code name "Tiger" as part of "Operation Tiger".

During all the kerfuffle of the escape and manhunt for LeBeau, Newkirk would drive the tank into the space provided for it in the barracks. It would be quickly dismantled, diagrammed, reassembled, and returned while "Tiger" would be provided with the blueprints and smuggled back to the Allies.

After a final review with his men, the bell sounded for roll-call. Schultz immediately noticed that Newkirk was missing. He was not happy, and kept throwing nervous looks in Hogan's direction. Hogan smiled blandly back.

After Schultz nervously completed a count up to 14 he paused, clearly at a loss. Klink, who had been observing from the steps of his office grew impatient and came striding over bellowing, "REPORT!"

Schultz whispered in Hogan's ear, "How can I make a report when number 15 is missing?"

"Look on the bright side!" replied Hogan, "Fourteen are here!"

Schultz did not appreciate the humor. By then Klink was on top of them.

Schultz began stammering nervously, when a strange sound coming from the front gate distracted all of them. It was an enormous tank, advancing into the camp and towards the barracks.

Hogan noted from the corner of his eye the figure of LeBeau running away, as all eyes were fixated on the tank.

Schultz, ever eager to deflect attention away from a possible personal failing, announced, "Herr Kommandant, the Tiger Tank is here!"

They all stood transfixed as the tank slowed and then stopped in front of Barracks 2. The turret opened, and Newkirk poked his head up and thundered, "Where is Kommandant Klink?"

Hogan's heart swelled with pride. Newkirk's German was flawless, and he positively oozed evil.

Klink stood smartly at attention, attracting Newkirk's notice.

"Heil Hitler!" Newkirk greeted commandingly.

"Heil" Klink responded half-heartedly, then stammered, "I, I..."

Newkirk cut him off, "Well, where are these rebellious prisoners? The Tiger Tank will smash them flat!"

Klink became immediately defensive, "There are no rebellious prisoners here! They are tame. I...tamed them."

He smiled, attempting to look self-assured, but looked anything but. Hogan winced inwardly. _That poor man wouldn't last two minutes with a real Gestapo thug._

"Then why did you request a tank?" snapped Newkirk.

"I did not!" replied Klink.

Newkirk then put on a show of presenting his orders, handing them to Schultz who then brought them to Klink. Schultz caught Hogan's eye and they exchanged a meaningful glance. Schultz had seen Newkirk in his Gestapo uniform earlier that day, and so had recognized him the moment he'd emerged from the turret. Of course, he had no intention of mentioning this, but used that instant to communicate his disapproval to Hogan. Hogan made a mental note to have LeBeau cook one of Schultz's favorite dishes once he was back to make it up to him.

Klink hurriedly opened the envelope and looked over the "orders".

"They are certainly authentic," he acknowledged.

Hogan repressed a smirk.

"Could there be any doubt?" sneered Newkirk.

"Not a doubt in the world!" replied Klink.

Hogan judged that LeBeau had now had enough time to make his escape.

"Sir, request permission to speak," he said.

"No!" shouted Klink, clearly frazzled.

He paused, and pulled himself together and sighed, "Yes."

"I regret to inform you that one of my men seems to have escaped."

"Escaped!" Klink blurted, then looked nervously at Newkirk.

"He received a letter from home today. His girl sent him a _candid_ snapshot," Hogan said with a hint of a leer.

"So these are your _tamed_ prisoners," remarked Newkirk sarcastically.

"No one has ever escaped from Stalag 13," insisted Klink.

He turned and started bellowing instructions, "Sound the alarm! Release the dogs! All guards turn out for the search! All prisoners into the barracks!"

He turned back to Newkirk, "I assure you sir, I - "

"Lucky for you Klink, that I am here," interrupted Newkirk with perfectly feigned exasperation, and sank back down into the tank.

Hogan couldn't resist giving Schultz a sly smile as Klink stormed off to begin the search. Schultz glared back and began ordering the prisoners inside. Hogan dawdled a bit, in particularly high spirits, and caught Schultz's attention after the rest of the men had gone inside.

He gestured toward the tank, "Exciting, isn't it Schultz?"

Schultz did not seem to agree and instead glared at the tank with a mixture of apprehension and displeasure as the tank's engine restarted.

It took less than a minute for Newkirk to pilot the tank into the hiding place that the Heroes had designed for it. Schultz watched it go, open mouthed, then quickly shook his head and hurried away.

The next morning came, and still "LeBeau" had not been found. Hogan was beginning to worry, when a knocking sound came from the emergency tunnel.

A moment later, LeBeau emerged, apologetic, but insisting the change of plan was unavoidable. He'd met up with "Tiger" but the original plan was not going to work. LeBeau was quite adamant. A moment later, Hogan found he had to agree. Tiger emerged from the emergency tunnel, and was greeted by a chorus of appreciative whistles.

"Tiger" was a beautiful blonde young woman with large brown eyes and plenty of luscious curves. She smiled shyly at all the men, who instantly crowded around her.

Hogan's heart sank, this was a complete disaster. Where on earth was he going to put her?

Newkirk was quick to volunteer his bunk, followed immediately by a chorus of rivals for the privilege.

But worst of all, how on earth was he going to get her out?

To be continued...

A/N: Next chapter will be back with Klink...


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: Back to Klink's POV. Apologies for the time this is taking. If I keep up at this rate, I'll die of old age before I finish the first season! :-) Reviews keep me motivated to keep plugging along!

Hold That Tiger! - 4

I sat at my desk, fuming. Last night had been one of the worst nights of my life, and Hogan was at least partially to blame.

I didn't blame him for bringing me the news of the Gestapo officer in Stalag 13. If the Gestapo were well and truly after me, it was best to know about it.

No, the problem was the falsehood he told me about an escaped prisoner. After a night of fruitless searching, and the return of the Gestapo agent with a tank, word came back that it had been a false alarm. Hogan had made me look foolish in front of the Gestapo, and now the tank was apparently missing. I had thought the tank had returned to its division after the alarm was called off. It was no longer to be seen here, anyway. However, I had been informed that the General of the Panzer division was demanding to know its whereabouts.

I couldn't see how Hogan could possibly know anything about the current location of the tank, but I certainly wanted to know why he had falsely reported one of his men missing. I sent Schultz to the barracks to fetch Hogan to my office. I was not going to let him lie and manipulate me out of giving me some sort of satisfactory explanation.

Hogan arrived looking just as friendly as ever and stood in front of my desk.

"Something I can do for you Commandant?" he asked casually.

I stood up, placing my hands on my desk and leaning forward in what I hoped was an imposing manner.

"A _slight_ explanation, Colonel Hogan, about last night," I demanded.

"Oh," he said taking his hat off and smoothing his hair, "I feel worse about that than you do."

As he sat down in the chair in front of my desk, he gestured at me. "Sit down, sit down," he said, as if he were a host about to serve refreshments.

I automatically began to resume my seat, then suddenly realized I was falling under Hogan's spell _again_.

I stood up and demanded, "On your feet!"

Hogan stood up with an air of resignation.

I continued, "If you do not feel worse than I do now, then you will!"

I came around the side of the desk to confront him face to face, not allowing myself to be charmed by his physical proximity.

"I and my men were out _all night_. And this morning, the man you reported missing was still here," I said as I pointed at Hogan accusingly.

"You know, I think we were even one over," Hogan said with a sly smile.

_What can I do to make him take me seriously?_ I wondered despairingly.

"Enough of your American jokes!" I snapped as I stalked back behind my desk.

"Punishment shall be meted out to _all _prisoners," I declared. I knew that would get Hogan's attention, and I wasn't wrong.

"All prisoners?" questioned Hogan.

I smiled. The best way to hurt Hogan was through his men. I knew that he genuinely cared for them. _If only he cared that way for me_, a tiny irrational voice said in my head.

"All prisoners, " I confirmed triumphantly, "then, you will not be so popular, Colonel Hogan."

I inwardly kicked myself for saying that. He shouldn't be made aware of my jealousy!

Hogan seemed unaware of my slip, for he merely replied, "Oh, they're going to hate me all right, but - I've just got to learn."

He ducked his head like a shamed schoolboy and looked up at me with his big dark eyes. I knew the submissive act was only that - an act, but it still did dangerous things to my imagination.

Hogan paused for a brief moment and continued hesitantly, "The usual punishment - sir?"

"Yes," I said folding my arms across my chest, "the prisoners' recreation hall will be padlocked for one week."

"You're a hard man, Colonel, but just," he said meekly, "anything else?"

I wavered. I was deeply troubled about the missing tank, but did not know if it would be wise to share my concerns with Hogan. However, if he had any information, it was crucial that he share it with me.

"Colonel Hogan," I began hesitantly, "last night just at roll call, a Tiger tank entered the camp."

"Tiger tank?" Hogan said with surprise, "that was a _tiger tank_? Hey! That's beautiful! My compliments to the General Staff, sir."

"_Danke_" I replied automatically before I realized he was mocking me. _This man will be the death of me!_

I pulled myself together and continued, "During the search, Colonel Hogan, did you happen to notice what gate it went out of?"

Hogan looked perplexed.

"It did go out a gate, didn't it?" I pressed.

"We were all locked in our barracks, sir," Hogan said meekly.

"Couldn't you have looked through a window?" I asked in frustration.

Just then Fräulien Helga came into my office to advise that General Hoffstedder was on the phone wanting to ask me personally about the location of his tank. He berated me quite soundly while I attempted to assure him that the tank would be found and returned to him quickly. While I was making my explanations, Hogan seated himself in the chair.

At one point the General began shouting at me so loudly I removed the phone from my ear.

Hogan leaned across the desk and commiserated with me, "Nasty tempers, those Panzers." He was just having a bit of fun at my expense, but my pathetic heart skipped a beat at his pretended sympathy. I put the phone back to my ear. The general was threatening to come to Stalag 13 and search the camp himself. That was the last thing I wanted. He hung up on me whilst I was doing my best to convince him that the tank would be returned immediately.

I put down the phone and came around the desk, my mind in a whirl of worry. Hogan stood up and came up to me, far too close than was safe.

"Lose a tank?" he asked teasingly.

I removed my monocle in order to stare directly into Hogan's eyes. I was not going back down from his teasing.

"If the tank did not leave the camp," I said, "then it is still here. And if it is still here, then your men may have hidden it."

I stopped for a moment and swallowed, hoping that didn't sound as ridiculous as I was afraid it did.

"Now we will search this camp," I continued firmly, "inch by inch, barracks by barracks, prisoner by prisoner."

"Colonel Klink," Hogan rumbled deeply, making me briefly weak in the knees, "now just where do you think we might have hidden a Tiger Tank?" he continued, his voice rising in indignation as he leaned even closer to me.

"It is impossible for you to have hidden a Tiger Tank!" I cried out, my tenuous control slipping dangerously.

"Therefore I _suspect _you," my voice was now trembling with emotion, "dismissed," I finished weakly.

"Don't worry," Hogan replied smirking again, "I think it'll show up soon."

With that, he swaggered back out of my office, leaving me trembling with worry and another emotion which I did not even dare think about.

To be continued...

**A/N**: I think there will be two more chapters - one more from Hogan's POV, and one more from Klink's then, it's on to the next episode! Reviews are savored like fine schnapps! (And make me tipsy with joy!)


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Many thanks for those who are following and reviewing this story! It really helps to know that people are enjoying it.

We're back to Hogan's POV...

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine...

Hold That Tiger! - 5

Hogan left Klink's office and headed back to Barracks 2 with a strange mix of emotions. Mostly, he was pleased that his plan was running so smoothly. Klink had predictably "punished" him by closing the recreation hall, which meant that the Heroes were probably already reassembling the Tiger tank there. The men were confident that they could reconstruct the vehicle much more quickly than the process of taking it apart and diagramming it, which had taken all night.

There were only two small flies in Hogan's ointment. One, he had just left - and that was Colonel Klink. As much as he hated admitting it, even just to himself, he felt a bit sorry for the man. Hogan had put him in a tight spot with the Panzer general and Klink was clearly very worried. Even as Hogan crossed the camp yard, he seemed to still see Klink's worried gaze in front of his face. Klink had startlingly bright blue eyes, Hogan mused to himself. And he had looked so much younger, and less ridiculous, when he'd taken out his monocle to glare at Hogan closely.

_Why does he wear that thing?_ Hogan wondered. _It's so laughably old-fashioned. Where does one even BUY a monocle these days? Oh well, it's probably a German aristocratic-tradition thing. His grandfather probably wore one, so he does. _

Hogan shook himself. If everything went according to plan, the tank would be returned shortly and Klink would no longer be in hot water.

By this time, Hogan was entering Barracks 2 and ready to deal with his other problem: the lovely underground agent code-named Tiger. Hogan was praying Newkirk and LeBeau had finished her uniform to pose as a German female railway worker so that she could make her break to freedom later that day.

Hogan felt a little guilty for having ranted and stormed at her for being a woman. He considered himself a chivalrous man, and the way he'd made her face fall at their meeting had caused him to feel like a cad. After all, it wasn't her fault that the Underground hadn't followed procedure. They should have known better than to have sent her in the first place.

Hogan arrived in his office just in time to break up a friendly dispute between Kinch and LeBeau over the use (or misuse) of the coffee pot. Kinch (over LeBeau's strenuous objections) had used the coffee pot to house the listening device for the bugs and wiretap in Klink's office. LeBeau continued to insist that it should be reserved for its original purpose: making coffee.

Kinch advised Hogan that the Panzer General was indeed on his way to Stalag 13 to either recover his tank or possibly shoot Klink.

Hogan was not surprised, and sent Newkirk over to check on the progress of reassembling the tank.

LeBeau then re-entered the office with Tiger, to show the results of his and Newkirk's tailoring.

"Worst job we ever did," LeBeau complained, "but the blueprints are all in there."

He patted Tiger across the shoulders.

_Doesn't look so bad to me_, thought Hogan as his eyes slid appreciatively over Tiger's curves. However, aloud he asked LeBeau about covering the railway worker uniform for roll call. The plan called for Tiger to stand in for Newkirk during roll call, allowing Newkirk to return the tank to the Germans.

Kinch left Hogan's office wishing Tiger luck.

"Thank you, Sergeant," she replied with one of her gorgeous smiles.

LeBeau handed Tiger a pair of coveralls and a cap to conceal her hair.

"You be careful, eh?" said LeBeau as he exchanged _la bise_ with his countrywoman.

"Merci," she replied quietly.

Hogan turned away from their tender farewell, once again feeling guilty. The woman was risking everything, just as they were. They were all in this together, and she deserved his respect.

After LeBeau had gone Hogan went over to help Tiger struggle into her coveralls.

"I can manage," she snapped.

Hogan fell back, slightly hurt but acknowledging that he probably deserved it.

Once Tiger had her legs in, she easily finished donning the bulky coveralls, and she began to speak, but this time in a much softer tone.

Hogan tried to pay attention to what she was saying, but found himself distracted by the smooth sounds of her delicious French accent. She seemed to be saying that she had heard his reputation and had admired him from afar, and therefore volunteered for this mission in order to meet him.

It was mostly meaningless sounds, unfortunately, because her lips made such entrancing shapes - her full, wet lips producing those incredibly arousing noises...Some oddly practical part of Hogan's brain wondered how on earth she managed to acquire good quality lipstick in her present circumstances.

_Women are such amazing creatures..._

He and Tiger were now lost in each other's eyes...there had been a distant ringing, but Hogan had not paid much attention. What did roll call matter when such beauty was almost in his grasp?

"Roll call, Colonel," said Kinch firmly, breaking the spell, and Tiger was tugged away. She cast him one last longing glance.

Hogan shook himself, and went outside to line up with his men. He could see the Panzer general over by the Kommandantur shouting at an extremely nervous Klink.

Schultz was happy to ignore the unpleasantness and instead was performing his customary count of the prisoners. When he reached 15, however, his unhappy face appeared in front of Hogan's.

"Please, Colonel Hogan, you push me too far."

"What's the matter Schultz? All 15 not here?"

"Fifteen are here, but it is not Newkirk. In fact, it doesn't even look like Newkirk in any important respects."

Hogan turned around and glanced at Tiger behind him. She lowered her enormous eyes and pulled the brim of her cap lower.

"Really?" Hogan asked Schultz with surprise.

"Oh please, Colonel Hogan," gasped Schultz, "I do not want to interfere in your private life but I must insist..."

"Schultz," interrupted Hogan, " you have my word, Newkirk will be here." He paused and added with a hint of apprehension, "Any time now..."

_I do hope they were able to reassemble the tank in time..._

Just then, a beautiful noise erupted from the closed recreation hall.

_Thank God!_

The tank came bursting out through the flimsy wall of the hall and started making its ponderous way through the camp.

Instantly, there was mass confusion as the guards waved frantically at the tank. The general attempted to order the tank to stop, but as there was no one inside, the tank ignored him and the general had to dodge quickly out of its way.

In the meantime, the prisoners broke ranks and rushed around causing more noise and confusion, cheering the tank along and following in its wake of destruction.

It was everything Hogan could have hoped for.

"Now where did that come from?" Hogan asked Schultz happily.

"I see nothing, _nothing_!" exclaimed the unhappy Schultz with his eyes closed.

The tank was clearly headed for the front gate, and the general and his assistants hurriedly got back in the general's car, intending to follow the tank and arrest the non-existent driver.

Hogan and Tiger watched the ensuing chaos together, still standing next to Barracks 2.

"This is about the biggest diversion we can make," Hogan told her, "you better get going."

Tiger paused, then grabbed Hogan and kissed him wildly, desperately, as if they were both about to be shot, which of course, was a distinct possibility. Hogan immediately responded, throwing his arms around her and kissing her just as fervently in return. Neither held anything in reserve, it was all tongues and teeth and need and pressing against each other in an attempt to crawl into each other's skin.

LeBeau tried to both get their attention while attempting (very unsuccessfully) to screen them from any onlookers. Fortunately for all of them, Schultz was still nearby and hurried to place his much larger frame between the lovers and the rest of the camp.

"Colonel Hogan! Colonel Hogan!," he insisted nervously, "kissing prisoners is _verboten_!"

LeBeau successfully disentangled Tiger from Hogan's grasp.

"_Au revoir_," she called back, her huge eyes full of longing.

Just then, the tank burst through the front gates followed by the general in hot pursuit and a crowd of cheering prisoners (who all politely stopped at the front gates and waved goodbye to the rapidly disappearing tank).

Hogan was immensely pleased. He'd just had a thrilling kiss from a beautiful woman, obtained the plans for a new German weapon, and managed to pull off his first major operation. It was a good day.

Schultz, however, was not having a good day. He stood beside Hogan, his eyes tightly shut. "Anything happening," he asked Hogan.

"Nothing, Schultz. Just the dull, deadly routine of prison life," Hogan announced happily.

Schultz opened one eye cautiously, then the other. After taking in the pandemonium, he shut his eyes again and said, "Oh boy."

Hogan smiled happily, not realizing he had just experienced one of the most fateful kisses of his life.

In spite of all the noise and confusion, in spite of LeBeau's and Schultz's efforts...the kiss had been seen...

To be continued...

A/N: Next chapter will be the last one. And we'll be back with Klink! Reviews are my oxygen!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Just wanted to thank all my readers again. I am a newcomer to writing for this fandom and I so appreciate the warm welcome I've received. This is the final chapter for this episode. We're back with Klink...

**Disclaimer:** Still not mine...

Hold That Tiger! - 6

I was in a state of panic. The camp was descending into chaos, and all in front of the Panzer general! The tank plowed through the camp, the prisoners were cheerfully rioting, and the general was angrily shouting orders at the guards randomly running about. It was all too much. I closed my eyes, in the futile hope that when I opened them, I would find that this was a bad dream.

Instead, I opened my eyes to see Colonel Robert Hogan _kissing another prisoner_!

I blinked, and looked again. Not only was he kissing another prisoner, but they were wrapped around each other as if the rest of the world didn't exist. They were so tightly intertwined I couldn't tell who Hogan was kissing. He was just a slender figure in coveralls, but there was no mistaking Hogan's uniform.

_Hogan is kissing one of his men - passionately! How is this possible?_

I was staring at them, open-mouthed. A small part of my mind warned me that I should be paying attention to other things, but I couldn't tear my gaze away. Corporal LeBeau was hovering around the kissers anxiously, clearly worried that they would be seen.

Then, that great oaf Schultz waddled over and interposed his bulk between the lovers and the continuing melee. He seemed less disturbed by the fact that the two men were kissing than the possibility of them being seen.

_Hogan is kissing one of his men and Schultz is protecting them! _

I continued to watch as LeBeau finally separated the other prisoner from Hogan and tugged him quickly away. I should have watched them, to see where they went so I could figure out who it was that Hogan kissed. But, I couldn't tear my eyes from Hogan, who looked momentarily despondent over the loss of his lover. He quickly recovered, though, and was soon joking with Schultz, who seemed more disturbed about the chaos in the camp than with conversing with a moral degenerate.

_Is it possible that prison sex has become so common in my camp that Schultz sees acts of affection between prisoners as normal?_

I went through the motions of restoring order with only half my attention as I pondered the ramifications of what I had witnessed. Clearly, the bond between Hogan and the other man must go beyond mere biological relief because a consummation in the prison yard could not have possibly entered the mind of anyone sane. Did this mean it was an affair of the heart? Was Hogan a homosexual, like me? Were his flirtations with my secretary an act to disguise his true nature?

The whole idea was very confusing. As much as I hoped that maybe Hogan was like me, I found it disturbing that he would openly carry on an affair with one of his men. While I admired his bravery, and the tolerance of his men in accepting it, it could only be bad for morale and discipline. Accusations of favoritism would probably arise, possibly physical violence could erupt from men who felt threatened by the open presence of homosexual men.

However, I couldn't deny that as far as I could tell, there did not seem to be any current problems. I considered calling in Schultz to question him about it, but eventually decided against it. Schultz would bluster and deny any knowledge of such activity. The only way to get reliable information from Schultz was by him blurting it out accidently.

I finally decided that I needed to talk to Hogan face to face. I couldn't rest without seeing Hogan again, now that I knew his secret. I wasn't sure exactly what I hoped to accomplish, but I wanted to simply see him, talk to him, and enjoy the presence of another man like me. I had no plans to divulge the truth about myself, I could never trust an enemy with such a weapon, but it would be a comfort to just be with someone that I knew suffered the same anxieties and burdens as I carried.

I opened a bottle of Spätburgunder wine and poured myself a glass. I took a few sips, then sent for Hogan. I set out a second glass. I hadn't decided if I would offer any to him, but thought it would be best to have the glass ready in case I became inclined to have him join me in drinking. I also set out a dish of nuts. I knew that Hogan would help himself to them without my invitation.

Hogan arrived in just a few moments, looking just as carefree as ever. However, I found it difficult to look at him without the image of him passionately kissing the other prisoner imposing itself on my memory.

As Hogan approached my desk I got to my feet, clutched at my wine glass and turned away from him, feigning a casual air. I could hear Hogan beginning to root through the dish of nuts, probably looking for whatever was his favorite kind.

"Colonel Hogan," I began.

I turned around just in time to see Hogan had smash open a nut using the helmet I kept on my desk.

_My pickelhaube!_

I snatched it up, glaring at Hogan. _Don't kid yourself_ I thought, _he clearly cares nothing for you._

I set the helmet back down and placed my fists on the desk and leaned forward.

"Now we have had some strange occurrences in this camp. Very strange occurrences." I gave him an intense look, wondering how he might interpret my words.

"We have?" Hogan replied, glancing at me only briefly, seemingly intent on his snack.

"Yes," I said firmly, "can you suggest an explanation?"

"The Gestapo," he replied.

I blinked. "The Gestapo?" I repeated in puzzlement.

"Colonel Klink, you've never had an escape at Stalag 13. That's a record not even the Gestapo can match."

"True," I acknowledged, "but I..."

"It's a plot to discredit you in Berlin!"

"But why?"

"Your efficiency is showing them up!"

"No!"

"You have a better theory?"

I paused and quickly thought about the Gestapo officer sneaking into the camp to interview prisoners, the tank brought here by the Gestapo, without my orders, causing me nothing but trouble. Maybe Hogan was right. But was my efficiency the reason they wanted to ruin me? Or did they suspect my morality?

"This is incredible!" I exclaimed. "What can I do?"

_Why am I asking my enemy, a prisoner, for advice?_

I realized I was wringing my hands nervously together, so I leaned forward and put them back down on the desk.

"Well," said Hogan as he swept the nutshells he'd scattered on the desk into a pile, "perhaps one of these days we might just be able to arrange an escape."

He paused, then continued, "Nothing big, 15...20 men."

He cautiously looked up at me.

_Is he serious? Does he genuinely want to help me? Or is he just wanting to use me? Would it work? Would intentionally spoiling my record save me from the Gestapo?_

My heart thundered in my chest, I was afraid Hogan could hear it. I was considering throwing myself off a cliff. Did he know it? Was he worth it? I decided to proceed, but with caution.

"Do you realize, that what you are suggesting, Colonel Hogan, is treason?"

I held my breath, how would he answer?

Hogan immediately became the joker again, "See what I mean? You're too perfect! That's why they hate you!"

Hogan grabbed the extra wine glass and helped himself to my wine. The moment, whatever it had been, was gone. My heart sank.

Hogan raised his glass to me, said, "for after dinner," and swallowed the wine in one large gulp. He then took another handful of nuts, saluted me and left.

Frustrated, I looked down at my desk and saw the pile of broken nutshells he'd left behind. I angrily grabbed them and threw them away.

I sat at my desk, brooding and drinking the rest of my bottle of wine. The sun had set by the time I finished and I made my way back to my quarters. As I crawled into my cold and empty bed I wondered if Hogan was with his lover.

_You're pathetic,_ I told myself, _you're the Kommandant, but you're more lonely and sad than your prisoners. You better hope this war drags on, because no matter how it ends, things will only get worse for you._

End.

**A/N:** So, that's the first episode. Please tell me what you think, and if you'd like to see more. Constructive criticism is always welcome.


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